A Week From the Journal of Catra
by CallistoLexx
Summary: Continuing Shipwreck's new romance, and the journal excerpts, is Carly. Just how well is she handling her mother dating Shipwreck? If you don't know, then you don't know Carly!


**Well, here's another one. As usual, it starts the day after Fred's ends. _X-Men: Evolution_ and _G.I. Joe_ belong to Marvel. Althea, Xi, and the concept of the Misfits belong to Red Witch. I do own Adam, Carly, and Roxie. If you wanna use 'em, go right ahead.**   


**A Week From the Journal of Catra**   


Sunday: 

My mom can't date Shipwreck! It's just…wrong! On so many levels! He deserves someone less…nuts! I'm not worried about him so much as her. He's a nice man. He's a bit loony, but I like him. Not that I don't love my mom, I do. But I've known her all the eighteen years I've been alive. And in all that time she's had six husbands and countless more boyfriends. So you see why I have a problem with this relationship. My mother has commitment problems. Shipwreck needs someone stable, someone who can make him happy…someone who can last. He's already been traumatized by one lousy ex-wife, the whole family has been. They don't need another one. I like them. Althea seems to be concerned about the same thing as me…only reversed. She thinks that her father is too insane for my mother. Boy does she not get it or what? And you know who's really getting a kick out of all this? Everyone who isn't Al, Shipwreck, Mama, and me! Fred keeps referring to Beach Head as "Sorta-Uncle Beach Head." He has some weird theory that everyone will be related (whether by blood or by sharing guardian status or something) if Mama and Shipwreck marry. I'm convinced: Everyone I know is insane! I'm torn. Should I let this thing run it's natural course or should I do the caring daughterly thing and break them up? 

Monday: 

Okay, I'm choosing option two. The babies are getting attached. I had a talk with my mother, voiced my concerns…and now she's mad at me. I think it was my line about "insane, non-committal, finicky, bar-hopper" that insulted her. Can I help it if I speak the truth? Maybe I should talk to Shipwreck about this. I've talked to Daddy Beach Head and you know what? He thought I was making funnies. I don't think he properly understands my complaints. No one does. Except Althea…only, as I said, for her they're reversed. I wonder if anyone else here would be willing to help me. Fred likes this situation too much to help me. Adam loves both my mother and Shipwreck so he's a no. Lance…too hung up on Kitty. Pietro…he may help, but he drives me nuts. Keeps coming after me with scissors and hair dye. Note to self: Smack Adam for his little 'Queer Eye for the Feral' endeavor of his. So far I have no help. The Triplets may…but they have my mother wrapped around their little fingers so they probably won't. Xi might help if I ask really nicely. Same with Althea, I hope. Of course, I should come up with a plan first. Why oh why can't I come up with a great plan like _Clue_'s Wadsworth? Oh, wait…he got himself killed… 

Tuesday: 

Aren't parallel universes supposed to have brain-eating zombies or something? Oh, wait…Pietro could fit the zombie part. Except he's brain numbing and not brain-eating. What I really want to know is when in the world did I get sucked into a parallel universe? You haven't seen anything until you've seen all the grown men you know and live with watching a marathon of _Queer Eye for the Straight Guy_ in hopes of making themselves better men. What's scarier is that Shipwreck willingly asked for Adam and Pietro to give him a makeover. At least that's the story that was told to us girls when we got back from the Female Bonding Session we had to have over at the mall. All I have to say is that they're lucky we got back when we did. They were about to talk Shipwreck into a perm! That man does not need to look like a poodle. But the good news is that I have created a plan: The feeding of some true stories and some misinformation. Yes, sir, it's time to send Pee-Wee to the Alamo. 

Wednesday: 

Not only is this a parallel universe, this is a parallel universe that's stuck in the eighteen hundreds. Shipwreck came up to me today and said: "I would like to tell you of my intentions toward your mother." When did **_HE_** become so formal? It's freaky! He wants a long dating period, then he'll pop the question, be engaged for a year (and living together most of that year so they'll know if they can actually live together) then get married and we'll all be one happy family. Have you ever seen that episode of _The Golden Girls_? I think it was the finale…Blanche's uncle Lucas comes to town and she has a date so she sets up Lucas and Dorothy. They find out that neither wanted to go on the date and exact revenge on Blanche by pretending to get engaged after just one date. This whole ordeal reminds me of that, only…this may not be a joke. I can't think of anything that I did that could provoke this kind of practical joke. Well, that doesn't involve Lifeline in some way. Whoa…this was all set up by him! I'm sure of it! I am going to get him back for this! 

Thursday: 

Lifeline didn't plan this. I went back to the base for a few minutes to make sure. I know he was telling the truth, I didn't sense any nervousness or glee that I was getting what I deserved. In fact, he seemed rather disturbed. I think he's afraid that Mama is going to get him for "picking on me" during the feud (even though I, technically, started it, I think.) I told him I'd make sure Mama didn't do anything to him. I think our feud is now over. We made peace. I promised him that I wouldn't pry into his life, he promised that he wouldn't get upset if Bree gave the information to me without my asking, and he also opened the doors to all my illnesses…next time I get any, that is. But I had to get back to the vacation and back to the reality that this isn't a joke that Lifeline orchestrated. Oh, boy. This could still be a big joke, right? Just in case it wasn't, I directed Pee-Wee to the Alamo. I told Mama about life at the Pit and the X-Geeks and a few tiny misdirections. And I told Shipwreck what Mama was like (all the stories about the husbands and boyfriends) as well as a few made up stories (one involving a hot dog, ketchup, and mustard cake. Hey, if that soap opera _Passions_ can make a tomato soup cake, I can make one that you can take out to the ballpark!) 

Friday: 

Repression is a good thing, especially after some of the things I learned today. Mama and Shipwreck actually talk. They cleared up my misdirections. What's really scary is that the cake I made up was real; I'd just repressed the memory. At least now I remember why I originally stopped eating hot dogs. The bad thing about that is that now everyone thinks that neither my Mama nor myself can cook. We can cook...we just don't always have the best ideas for edible inventions. To prove them wrong, we made supper. I think we may have given them food poisoning again. One of us did. It was either her pasta dish or my dessert. Neither of us really wants to know who poisoned our friends. We're never going to be allowed to cook again. That should make me sad, shouldn't it? Oh well, this just means no ucky cake. I'm also grounded for the next two weeks for my little lies (though Beach Head said that no one needs to know that when we're back home I'm off grounding.) All I know that everyone is getting sick of my little antics. Let's see, I've done the story thing, some embarrassing pictures, a few snarky comments (Beach Head said to try that as a last ditch effort,) and even forced a karaoke night in hopes that one or the other would sing so badly they'd have to dump each other. Nothing is working! And I'm running out of ideas! I'm about to throw in the towel and say that if they want to ruin each other's lives, they can just go ahead. But I'll tell you one thing: I'm staying with Beach Head. They can't make me leave his place. Heck, HE can't even make me leave his place! 

Saturday: 

I think I want to throw a temper tantrum. No, I know I'd like to throw a temper tantrum. I know Mama and Adam are expecting me to throw a temper tantrum…and if they weren't expecting it, I'd definitely throw one. Today just reminds me of how much I love Beach Head. He took me home to his place! Though he might have done it either to shut me up or to get away from the lovey-dovey uckyness. So why am I so upset? Why did I ask to be taken home? Well, let me just say that everyone except for Beach Head and Althea are rather angry with me. I was just trying to protect the Delgado's! At least my heart was in the right place. That still doesn't explain what I did, does it? Well, I called the cops and the insane asylum to come and pick up Shipwreck and Mama. Yep, I narc'd on them. They talked their way out of it and I began screaming that they were going to ruin each other's lives (and somehow ended up babbling something about birds, bees, and tequila shooter night—I still don't know what that was all about.) I almost got dragged to the Macadamia Ranch, but Beach Head got everything straightened out for me. Everything will be fine once I can find a way to apologize. That really involves finding the perfect way to say "I'm sorry" and sound like I actually mean it! Oh, I'm never being forgiven. At least I still have Beach Head. And the hope that Mama will run away screaming after meeting the X-Geeks. They could scare anyone away…they actually have scared most everyone away! It's a sad day when all of a person's hopes are banking on a group of unpopular rejects. Oh, I'm in trouble…they're going to make sure my Mama and Shipwreck get married and embarrass us for the rest of our lives. If that does happen, I'm moving to Jersey and changing my name to Sarah Smith. That will let me live in peace. I think I'll agree with Fred: I need more sessions with Psyche Out and maybe some electro-shock therapy. 


End file.
